


Happy Returns

by nagia



Series: Burnt Offerings [7]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagia/pseuds/nagia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent Valentine turns... well, too old, as Auron would put it. Pity the one person he wants to see is apparently spending today in Invisibleninjaland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Returns

On thirteenth October, Yuffie Kisaragi was nowhere to be found. He spent much of the day looking for her and finding countless others, but the ninja herself (and her "flying sidekick," as Auron succinctly put it) remained elusive. The child whose thoughts mattered most to him had completely avoided him the entire day. As if the universe wanted to make up for this oversight, nearly everyone in town had shared either gifts or well-wishes.

Funny, how much they loved the man who had once been Maleficent's monster. It almost made him want to scream, or to become Galian and show them why they should fear and hate him. But AVALANCHE--the real AVALANCHE, the AVALANCHE he had known, had loved, had lost, had left behind--would never have forgiven him for it.

Vincent rubbed his finger against the Blazing Crystal that Aerith had given him. His element was fire, she'd claimed. Well, Fire-Fira-Firaga _had_ been the spells he'd mastered first. And the Capital Punishment could probably do with a few alterations.

The sunset looked a bit like the hard, sharp, strange stone in his hand. Red like a ruby, undercut by flame-orange and fading into purple. Spangled with glinting stars that glittered just as much as they had the evening they'd arrived on this world.

Castle Obsidian, Maleficent's home, was a dark spot on the horizon. But there was something moving on the tower. Something too large to be a mere raven. A new Heartless?

No, he realized as his throat clenched from instinctive worry. It was Yuffie.

She always had liked high places, hadn't she? He seemed to recall her spending a lot of time in treetops, on high ledges. On the mountains overlooking Wutai. Of course that hadn't changed; she was still a ninja, still an acrobat, of course she would still like high places.

Vincent reflected on how many years it had been since she'd died and found his throat closing even tighter. This Yuffie was so much like the girl he'd known. And yet not.

* * *

He wasn't surprised to see Leonhart leaning against one of the Bailey walls. Where Yuffie pranced and paced and above all climbed, Leonhart was the sort to remain stationary, with his hands near that ridiculous Gunblade and Blizzaga glittering sharp and cold in his mind.

Leonhart's voice was dry as he asked, "Going somewhere?"

Vincent turned to look at the other man. The cloak shifted, hanging heavily from his shoulders as he glared at the reincarnation of a hero he'd never known.

"She's been there all day." Leonhart said at last, apparently backing down. But there was a faint hint of confrontation to his tone, as if it were Vincent's fault. Vincent supposed that in a way, it might have been.

"Worried?" Vincent asked, one hand moving to rest against the Capital Punishment's grip. The smooth, even wood was comforting. If there was anything to worry about that wasn't Yuffie's love-affair with heights greater than thirty feet, he could handle it.

The man who called himself Leon shot him a glare.

Vincent moved past him.

* * *

Yuffie had managed to scale to the highest point of the castle and was sitting amidst the crenellations atop the highest tower. Exactly how she'd climbed that high, considering the scarcity of handholds and footholds, Vincent wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The claw dug deep into one of the gaps in the stone and he began to work his way upward. It took him a while, probably far longer than it had taken Yuffie. But he did work his way to her height eventually, tucking himself in one of the gaps next to hers.

"Good evening," he told her.

Yuffie kicked her legs and chewed thoughtfully on an apple. "Do you think we ever fought wars in castles?"

It was such a strange question that Vincent turned to look at her. "Hn," he allowed. "It seems likely."

They sat there like that, Yuffie eating her apple without much to say, and Vincent watching the sunset and the arrival of the stars. Beneath them, Heartless appeared and wandered, mostly unable to scale the tower, and easily dissuaded from doing so by a well-aimed pebble from Yuffie.

"How old are you today?"

The question came suddenly. Vincent stared at the sinking sun and thought about how to answer it. "Too old," he replied, aware that it was an answer more befitting Auron than himself.

"Yeah, but how old is that?" she kicked her legs again.

"Yuffie." His voice went sharp, unintentionally. She jerked her head up and he paused, swallowed, softened his voice. "I am old enough to have seen the destruction of my world. Need I be more specific?"

She winced, then abruptly stood and cartwheeled off the ledge, landing in a handstand on the tower. Vincent stood as well, reaching out for her, instinctively wanting to steady her. The tower was old and crumbling; who knew if it was stable or not?

"I apologize, Yuffie. That was unnecessarily cruel."

She shook her head, righting herself and adjusting her position on the old stones. "No, I'm sorry. I guess I just... I keep forgetting that your world is gone. That you're not from here."

Vincent blinked, found himself tilting his head to stare at her. It probably made him seem what she called 'creepy,' but he couldn't help it. That admission, that he felt that familiar, was perhaps the best gift he'd received that day.

Was she _his_ Yuffie? No. But she was still Yuffie.

It was almost enough.

"Happy birthday, Vincent," she said, smiling as she handed him a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper.

Vincent's brow furrowed as he accepted the package. He wasn't infallible, but the shape and light weight of the package felt rather like his wallet. Vincent transferred her gift to his claw--holding it carefully, carefully, wouldn't do to slice it to ribbons even if she _had_ stolen it--and checked his pockets.

When he looked up, Yuffie gave him a wide, wide grin.

* * *

END


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